It's been 12 months since the end of the war and slowly everything in the Wizarding world is starting to re-build.
Shops are re-opening, families are starting to dress in colours other than black, mounments are being installed, and the Ministry is going through major overhaul with new leadership, new protocols, and a lot of new staff.
Harry is right in the middle of it; the first few months had been the hardest. He'd slept for 72 hours after the war; a combination of exhaustion, grief, and a mammoth dose of Dreamless sleep that Madam Pomfrey had forced him to drink. His body could focus on wound healing and re-generation whilst he slept so when he woke up the downpour of emotion, guilt, and attention everyone required didn't drown him entirely.
He'd been to more funerals than he could count, been mobbed on the street so many times he now didn't go out without magically modifying his appearance, and slowly had started to re connect with Ginny.
He started slow; sharing stories of the time he'd spent on the road, camping in fear with Ron and Hermione. Listening to her stories of how Hogwarts had been during that time.
Eventually he'd shared with her his near-death experience. How close he'd been to dying, and how Narcissa had recused him. The revelations of the Spirit of Dumbledore in the limbo he'd visited, as well as the revelations of Snape's memories.
Ginny had listened quietly and let him talk and eventually he was spilling all of his emotions. Talking about 5th year and Sirius and the tournament and so many of his experiences. That was a seven hour talk session and Ginny still knew she had so much to learn about her boyfriend.
Sometimes they could have brief moments of normality. Harry would change their appearances and they'd sneak away to muggle London. Harry having exchanged his galleons for pounds and taking Ginny from a fancy high tea at Harrods, to laughing at her as she tried a McDonald's burger for the first time.
"What is this, Harry?" cried the girl who'd never seen such processed cheese and meat,
"What do you mean Muggles like this?"
Then it would all come rushing back, the anxiety starting in Harry's toes and pushing upwards through his body. He'd feel faint suddenly and they'd rush back to the Burrow, run to the old shed beyond the orchard, and hold each other until the memories subsided.
They had their bad days too, when therapy had gone terribly or nightmares struck and they were sniping at each other until a fight broke out. Harry and Ginny didn't argue without noise, they were loud, and fiery, and both stubborn as anything. They were easy to fire and quick to apologise.
One thing Harry never talked much about was his childhood. Ginny knew little bits and pieces but to say she wanted to know more was an understatement. She wasn't nosy, but she loved Harry so much she wanted to know everything about him.
So one afternoon as they were alone in the Burrow kitchen she plucked up the courage to ask,
"Can I meet your Aunt and Uncle, Harry?"
Harry dropped the plate he was carrying to the sink, it clanged on the slate floor and split in two.
"Shit," Harry muttered under his breath and grabbed his wand to repair the plate,
"Reparo" he muttered as he watched the plate meld together.
"I really don't think it's a good idea, Gin." He said his a strong tone Ginny knew as the 'voice' he put on when he was actually afraid,
"No, it's not happening" he declared with even more volume.
Ginny wasn't one to back down from a fight though,
"So, just a no immediately," she challenged
"We're not even going to discuss this?"
"What's there to discuss, Ginny?" replied Harry,
"There's nothing to discuss," he continued, "my relatives are terrible and you're not meeting them."
Then he stormed out the kitchen, up the hallway, and out the front door without a glance backwards, leaving Ginny sitting in the kitchen nook wondering how quickly that had all happened.
AN: Hi!
No long time no see from me on the website. Several years in fact but I got a sudden burst of inspiration. This is a short story with one or two more chapters soon to come
Thanks,
Midsummer Night Girl